


The Babble Machine

by tabulaxrasa



Series: Illyria (King and Country) [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Kidfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/pseuds/tabulaxrasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Royal Court of Illyria attends the Great Exhibition of 1862 in London. Shenanigans. (A sequel to King and Country)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Babble Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much to tuesdaysgone for all her beta help. ♥
> 
> mrsronweasley asked for a ficlet set 10 years later. I don't think I can accurately call something over 4,000 words a ficlet, so I'll call it "a series of connected ficlets" instead. :D?

_i._

Gerard woke up slowly, and it took a few moments before it sunk in that everything that had just happened had been a dream. He sighed with mingled relief and frustration. The dreams changed all the time but they were always about the same thing.

It helped, actually, that he wasn't at home. His surroundings were completely different and it was much more obvious that the dream hadn't happened.

He rolled over to look at Frank, asleep next to him. The dreams in which Gerard had to send Frank away were worst of all, representing the worst Gerard could possibly fail. Awake, he knew perfectly well he'd never send Frank away; he'd abdicate first.

Frank had cut his hair quite short before they came on this trip and now one could see all of his face at once, which tended to take Gerard a little by surprise. He was still so beautiful that he didn't seem quite real. Gerard watched him sleeping for a few moments, unfamiliar yellow light highlighting the planes of his face, and convinced himself not to wake Frank up.

Instead Gerard inched closer and pressed his face into Frank's chest. Frank stirred just enough to slide an arm over him. Gerard hid his face against Frank and talked himself out of the dream, even if it meant sacrificing the rest of the night's sleep.

The palace of Aqua Brava had its own sounds at night— guards on their rounds or talking softly, servants running on mid-night errands, and all the sleep noises produced by whatever ridiculous number of dogs Frank had smuggled in that month. London was much louder— or at least the sounds were more varied— but the sound it had in common with Aqua Brava was Frank's slow, steady sleep-breathing.

It must be close to dawn, because Gerard could hear carts rolling by on the street below, on their way to some market Gerard would never visit. They were here for the Great Exhibition being held in the late Prince Albert's honor, and that was where they spent most of their days. It was tempting, at least for Gerard, to use their position here _incognito_ as an excuse to wander 'round the city on foot, but in the end there was a limit to how _incognito_ you could be when your face was on currency.

They were really here _incognito_ to spare everyone the rounds of receptions and speeches that would be otherwise be necessary. Gerard was sure the populace of London didn't particularly care to stare and wave at him any more than he cared to be stared and waved at by them.

There had been one exception— the necessary evil of a state dinner to which Gerard had only acquiesced as a personal favor to Ambassador Morrison. He'd spent the entire time quite sure Queen Victoria was sizing him up as a potential son-in-law. Frank, who of course hadn't gone, was still making fun of him.

Maybe that was where this dream had come from. The queen had been so manifestly sad, despite the famous English reserve and the proscribed rituals and observances of state affairs. Gerard could not help but feel grieved for her.

 

Gerard kept enough of an eye open that he noticed the sky turn from black to grey, and then a lighter shade of grey. It was more or less full daylight before Gerard felt like he was starting to slip back into sleep. Of course, no sooner had he drifted almost into unconsciousness then Frank stirred and pushed Gerard onto his back. He crawled on top of Gerard, warm and heavy.

Gerard whined, "I was asleep."

"You were awake." Frank's voice was hoarse and rough and set off sparks in Gerard's belly. He licked Gerard's neck.

"I was almost asleep," Gerard insisted.

Frank hummed and bit softly at Gerard's jaw.

Gerard sighed and wiggled his arms free to wrap them around Frank. Frank rolled his hips against Gerard.

Gerard finally pushed the dream away. Frank was here, and this was supposed to be a vacation. Gerard was the King of Illyria, and if Frank walked out the door, Gerard wouldn't just stand and watch.

 _ii._

British, French, Italian, of course, he thought. And German, Austrian, Spanish... Even Danish was understandable. But Brazilian? _American?_ Weren't they busy killing each other or something?

"You're still here?"

Gerard startled a little bit, but it was just Frank, which explained why the discreetly-suited man looming on the other side of the room had let him come so close.

Frank craned his neck to look at the book in Gerard's hand and frowned. "Are you still upset there aren't any Illyrian paintings in the Exhibition? I told you, you should have submitted some of your own."

Gerard flushed and snapped the book shut. He put it in his pocket so Frank wouldn't take it away like he had yesterday. "I couldn't do that," he mumbled. They'd been over this, extensively.

Frank sighed. "I can't believe you just spent three hours in this room."

Gerard hunched his shoulders the way his mother had spent most of his life telling him not to. "There are a lot of paintings."

Frank smiled. It was the patient one that meant _I love you but you're an idiot_ , which was at least better than _You're an idiot but I can't tell you that because you're the king._

"I need your help with Ray," Frank said. "I think he's gone mad. He just spent twenty minutes talking about something called a 'Babbage.' That can't be a real word, can it?"

Gerard frowned as he considered it. "English is a very strange language," he offered.

"Hmm," Frank said. "Well, it's time for tea."

Gerard darted a glance at the far door into the room he hadn't yet managed to see. Apparently he wasn't very subtle.

"They'll have those scones again with that cream," Frank coaxed. "And Bunny will bite if you're late."

 

Bunny didn't bite, but it was a near thing. Mikey and Alicia had taken her to the big exhibit on musical instruments, and Ray really was talking about some sort of Babble Machine to anyone who stood still long enough. And then Frank told everyone Gerard had spent all day in the painting gallery again.

Before Gerard even really got started on his reaction to that, Ray waved a stack of flimsies in the air and called "Who wants telegrams?" Impeccable timing, as usual.

"Gerard does!" Frank said cheerfully, before running off with Mikey.

Gerard sighed and relieved Ray of the stack. "There are so many," he said. "Why are there always so many?"

Ray smiled and tried to look encouraging.

 

"No more obsessing about the paintings," Frank said later, after they went to bed. He was running his fingers through Gerard's hair, and Gerard had been soothed into a light doze.

"Hmm?" he opened his eyes and looked up into Frank's face.

"Bunny and I are going to see the South Seas exhibit tomorrow," Frank said, still stroking Gerard's hair. "You should come with us. I believe there are cocoa nuts you can try."

Gerard realized Frank was not merely missing his dogs, but petting him to ensure his compliance. He was feeling too warm and relaxed to care very much.

"Fine," he said. "Tomorrow we'll all go to the South Seas exhibit and eat cocoa nuts."

 

"They're out of cocoa nut," Gerard repeated.

Bunny looked incredibly taken aback. Running out of things was not something that was encompassed by her life experience.

Frank bit his lip, watching Gerard and Bunny avidly. He looked a little like he was enjoying himself. Socialist.

Bunny gave the man who was supposed to have cocoa nut a very serious look. He started to look uncomfortable and fidgeted. Bunny stepped up to address him and Gerard let her, curious to see what she would do.

Bunny lifted her chin. "I am Her Serene Highness the Grand Duchess Bunny of Illyria," she said. "And I want to have some cocoa nut, please."

Now the vendor looked taken aback, and looked at Gerard and Frank for help.

Had Gerard not been a king, a person of responsibility and dignity, he would have retreated, very quickly and possibly hiding his face. Frank, who had no such restrictions, covered his face with his hand.

Gerard pulled Bunny back with a hand on her shoulder. " _Beatrice Marie Ladislava_ ," he spoke through his smile. "We are supposed to be here _incognito._ "

She wrinkled her nose to show what she thought of that. "Show him, Uncle. Please."

For all that Gerard avoided going out of doors overmuch, he still had a faint white band on his finger where the ring with the royal crest usually sat. He didn't wear that ring when he went out in London; he kept it on his watch chain. There was incognito and _incognito_ , and waiting for a table at a crowded restaurant had been fun exactly once.

Frank was giving him a look like this was Gerard's fault.

"Perhaps we should just try again tomorrow, Bunny," Gerard said.

But Frank said "Wait." Now _he_ was directing a funny look at the vendor. " _Do_ you have any cocoa nut back there?" This started a long argument between Frank and the vendor, with plentiful interjections by Bunny. Gerard pulled his hat low and tried to hide between his own shoulders.

It wasn't that he minded them arguing, it was just that people were looking and the Illyrian booth wasn't so far away, and Gerard's portrait was hanging in it. It wasn't a very good portrait— Frank was right, he should have sent a daguerreotype or photograph— but it was still recognizably him.

"Gerard!" Gerard jumped a little and looked at Frank. "He wants to know that you're really the king of Illyria," Frank explained.

Gerard held in a sigh, and stopped his eyes from rolling, and showed his ring, and a cocoa nut appeared as if by magic.

 

"Well, was it worth it?" Gerard asked later. "Did you like it?"

Bunny thought about it carefully. "Yes," she said. "Not the milk but the meat. And the smell."

"I really liked the smell too," Frank said.

Gerard shrugged. "That was all right, I suppose."

Frank smirked at him. "See? Isn't it more entertaining and satisfying to see _all_ of the Exposition?"

Gerard shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. "If you've been all over the halls," he said, "then you must know where they have coffee."

"Oh, I see," Frank said. "That was your plan all along."

 

Much later still, Gerard said "You didn't have to fight for the cocoa nut."

"He was _lying,_ " Frank said.

"You called me 'Gerard' in public," Gerard pointed out.

"I always call you Gerard in public," Frank said.

"No, you said 'This is the king of Illyria. Hey, Gerard!'"

"And it's supposed to be 'Gerard, King of Illyria,' I know."

Gerard bit his shoulder. Frank laughed. "Don't blame me," he said. "You're the one here _incognito, Excellency._ "

Gerard was being passed off as the Duke of Aquileia, which Frank found endlessly entertaining.

There were a lot of things Gerard could have said in response, but he didn't feel like saying any of them. He pinned Frank to the bed instead and brushed his face across Frank's, teasing, not kissing. Frank's cheek was soft and smooth; he had shaved before coming to bed. One of the things Frank did for him that no one but Gerard would ever know about. Gerard turned his face away for a moment, to smile into the pillow. Frank was being good, holding quite still even though Gerard could feel the tension in his body, so Gerard turned back and kissed him.

 _iii._

"This part's the City of London," Gerard said, finger tracing the square on the map.

"Just that part?" Bunny frowned. "But I thought we were in London now?"

"We are," Gerard hesitated. He wasn't actually sure how it worked. "It's all London," he said, "but that part's _especially_ London."

Bunny looked at the map and frowned. Gerard, who didn't want to be asked any more questions he couldn't answer, went on the offensive. "Can you find where we are?"

Bunny looked at the map carefully. "Here?" She pointed to a long pale square next to one of the green spaces. She'd picked the Exposition halls, which was close enough.

Gerard beamed. "That's right! Do you remember what it's called?"

"Kennington?"

"Almost! Kensington." He listened to her repeat it. "Good."

"Where are you going tonight?"

Gerard searched the map before marking out the opera house.

She turned her big, brown eyes— Mikey's eyes— on him. "Oh no," Gerard said. "Opera isn't for little girls."

"It is at home," she pointed out.

"Er," said Gerard.

"Until you can refrain from shouting at the players," Alicia interrupted smoothly, "you are not allowed to attend public performances."

"I was encouraging them," Bunny argued.

"They don't need your encouragement," Mikey said, totally failing to sound unamused.

Bunny tried to turn her big eyes on Frank, no doubt hoping to use Frank and Gerard's continuous competition to be Favorite Uncle to her advantage, but Frank kept his eyes on his book and his face set in stone.

Bunny's nurse came and took her away, despite many pleading looks, and then it was time to dress and go to dinner— in the hotel, since there was only so many crowds Gerard was prepared to deal with in a day.

Their box at the opera was good but not _very_ good. The opera was very good, though, and although Gerard knew he was occasionally watched through other people's opera glasses, it didn't bother him. After the final curtain, Mikey nudged his arm against Gerard's.

"Shut up," Gerard said. "I'm not crying." But he accepted Frank's handkerchief when he silently held it out.

 _iv._

Gerard was trying to sketch bits of the Exhibition from memory while Ray enthused about something. Gerard made agreeable noises without listening until Ray said "Great! I'll meet you tomorrow at ten, then!" Gerard looked up, a little startled, but Ray was grinning and excusing himself, hair bouncing around his head as he left the room. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" he called.

Gerard froze. "What did I just agree to?"

Mikey and Frank laughed.

"What?" Gerard said. "What just happened?"

"You really ought to listen when other people talk, Gee," Mikey said. He was smirking, and Frank was still giggling.

"What?" Gerard demanded.

"You promised to go with Ray tomorrow to see his..." Mikey trailed off, and Frank picked it up.

"Babble Machine. Or whatever it is."

Gerard groaned and rubbed his eyes, belatedly remembering the inky pen.

 

They had to pass by Surgical Instruments to get to Philosophical Instruments. Gerard didn't like that at all. "That is both terrifying and barbaric," he announced. He suspected Ray rolled his eyes at him.

The thing Ray took him to see was loud and big, and no matter how many times Ray tried to explain it to him, Gerard didn't understand what an Analytical Engine was.

"It's not complete," Ray said. Gerard was relieved, because he thought Ray probably wouldn't ask for one if it wasn't finished yet. "But if it was it would...um...do mathematics for you."

"It does mathematics for you?" Gerard repeated, impressed. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"That's not that point, really, sire— sir."

"Why not?" Gerard said. "Isn't that good enough?"

"Well, yes..." Ray said, looking anxious and earnest as he usually did, but with a fresh veneer of excitement. "But why _stop_ there, you see?"

"I... Yes," Gerard said. But he didn't pull it off very well, because Ray drooped a little.

"Well, the design on this one, see, is that you have little cards, punched with holes in a certain pattern, that allows the machine to perform the same way over and over."

Gerard frowned. "Isn't that the point of machines?"

"For simple tasks, yes," Ray was getting excited again, so Gerard must have done something right. "But this one can... Well, sort of find complex solutions over and over."

Gerard had to be missing something. "But once you've got the solution, why do you need to find it again?"

Ray stared at him. Gerard had the feeling it was not because he'd said something profound. He scuffed his foot on the floor and looked for some way to extricate himself from the situation.

"It's almost luncheon," he said. "We should go find the others." Ray cast a long, longing look back at the Analytical Engine before following Gerard toward the refreshment areas.

 

He allowed Frank to take him for a walk after lunch. It wasn't at all bad to get out of the Exhibition Hall. The sun was almost shining. "Look, there's another one!" Frank said, and in his excitement used Gerard's walking stick to point out an English bulldog on a chain. "Aren't they cute?"

Gerard did not try to hide how horrified he was. "Cute? That is whatever the exact opposite of cute is. It is both hideous and terrifying. Indeed, Frank, congratulations; I did not think it was possible to find a dog uglier than Sweet Pea, but you've managed it."

Frank had not been listening at all, and now he turned his longing gaze on Gerard.

"No," Gerard said. "No no no no no." He emphasized the last few by tapping his stick on the floor.

Frank said nothing, but neither did his expression change. He looked at the bulldog, now thankfully at an increasing distance, with the same wide-eyed, excited, longing expression.

"No," Gerard said again, extra-sternly. "Bunny would be afraid of it."

Frank scoffed. "She would not."

This was true, Gerard admitted to himself. Why was everyone in his family mad? "None of those," Gerard said. "And don't think you can just bring one home and I'll give in this time. Dogs like that don't belong in palaces. They belong in..." Gerard didn't actually know where they belonged, but he was sure it was quite far away from wherever he was. "Shipyards," Gerard finally decided.

"Shipyards?" Frank seemed quite skeptical. "Why shipyards?"

Honestly, that was just the word that had come out of Gerard's mouth, and Frank probably knew it. "They're English," Gerard said, as if that closed that subject.

Frank looked like he was going to argue this point. Gerard wondered why he was having so many awkward conversations lately. "No," he said firmly, before Frank could work something up. "You can't have a bulldog, and Ray can't have an Analytic Engine, and Mikey can't have...whatever it is Mikey wants."

"Mikey wants a piano," Frank said.

"He... What? But we have pianos."

Frank shrugged. "This one's special, somehow."

"Well... Well," Gerard said. "After all, a piano's not unreasonable."

Frank raised his eyebrows. "A dog takes up a lot less room than a piano."

"Pianos are _reasonable_ ," Gerard insisted. Frank narrowed his eyes. "Pianos don't bite other dogs! If a bulldog took against the other dogs it could kill them!"

"Hmm," Frank said, but he seemed thoughtful, if reluctant and skeptical. They finally managed to walk on for a few paces. Then Frank grinned. "I can't believe your argument was 'A piano doesn't bite other dogs!'" Frank pitched his voice obnoxiously high and affected, which was not what Gerard sounded like at _all,_ and laughed.

Gerard felt his cheeks growing warm. "Don't talk to me for five minutes," he ordered.

Frank laughed so loudly people turned around to stare.

 _v._

There were a lot of church bells in London on Sunday mornings, far more than in Aquileia, or maybe they all just went off at slightly different times. "In Aquileia," Gerard murmured, because in spite of the coffee he was still sleepy, or sleepy again, "the church bells ring on time."

"That's just what we tell you, darling," Frank said. Gerard had his head on Frank's chest and when Frank spoke it almost sounded like an echo. Frank himself was half sitting up, reading through Gerard's telegrams and offering his opinion on them.

"I'm so sure you're going to raise the Crimea tariff renewal issue on a private holiday," Frank said, and tossed the latest one to the ground. "And that via telegram is an appropriate way to discuss it. What an asshole." Gerard really appreciated Frank's opinions.

"I liked the last prime minister better," Gerard agreed.

"Me too. He was nice." Which was probably why he hadn't lasted. "This new one is overbearing and presumptive. And Alicia and I agree that he is too severe with his wife. We think you should rig the next election."

Gerard huffed a laugh. "I don't know how to even begin doing that." Frank tapped his nose and looked superior. Gerard giggled.

When Frank reached up to take his glasses off, Gerard batted his hand away. "Leave them on," he said, trying to pull Frank back down into bed.

"No," Frank giggled. Gerard liked Frank's ridiculous giggle much more than his own. "Every time we try that you break them! And everyone will be here soon."

Gerard said he would buy Frank new glasses, and Frank went off on some pointless tangent about not having a spare pair with him and how long they took to make.

Gerard bit his nipple.

"Unhh! Gerard! Fine," Frank gasped, arching up in a most satisfactory way. "But no, seriously, I'm taking the glasses off."

Gerard had found better things to worry about. He licked at Frank's nipple, to make up for biting it (as if Frank minded). He stroked his hand down Frank's chest and hip and leg, down to Frank's knee, and then back up his thigh. Frank's legs were spreading further apart at his touch, and Gerard slid two fingers inside him, where he was still slick and loose from earlier this morning.

"Oh, fuck, Gerard, okay, okay," Frank panted, body rising to meet Gerard's hand. Gerard smiled, kissing his way down Frank's stomach. He really _enjoyed_ how quickly Frank lost control when Gerard touched him.

He sucked just the head of Frank's cock into his mouth, intending to let his fingers do most of the work, but he couldn't resist the urge to take more of Frank in his mouth. But he just sucked, slow and constant, in contrast to what his fingers were doing. He could tell by Frank's breathing that he was about to come. When he found the right spot, Frank cried out and arched up, spilling into Gerard's mouth. That was always his favorite part.

Frank whimpered when Gerard pulled his fingers out, though he tried to be careful. Gerard wiped his fingers on the sheets and looked at Frank, spread out before him, considering. He'd been more focused on getting Frank off than himself, and now he couldn't quite decide what he wanted.

Frank, flushed and sweaty, peered up him. Waiting. Gerard crawled over him, leaned down to kiss him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, because he couldn't hold it in anymore. "So, so beautiful."

"Come 'ere," Frank said, but then pushed Gerard back, until Gerard was upright, kneeling over Frank, and Frank could wrap his hand around Gerard's cock. He jacked him off, fast and hard, until Gerard came all over Frank's chest and stomach.

Cursing softly, Gerard fell forward until they were pressed together and he could kiss Frank, smearing his come all over both of them. "Good Lord, you're disgusting," Frank said, and he even made that sound like _I love you._

 

Gerard preferred spending his Sunday mornings in bed with Frank, doing things the Church disapproved of and drinking a whole pot of coffee. (Not at the same time, because Frank objected in the strongest possible terms while exaggerating the difficulties of this, even though Gerard had never spilled. Well, once or twice, but those were half on purpose. And that other time, but that was entirely Frank's fault so Gerard didn't count it.)

But Mikey and Alicia often took Bunny to church on Sundays because they thought it was good for her. Not the theological aspect but the "sitting still and listening to other people" part.

When they returned, and Frank and Gerard were both clean and finally dressed, they joined the rest of London in walking in the park after lunch. This was quite excitingly novel for Gerard and Mikey.

Gerard walked with Mikey and Alicia while Frank and Bunny raced around the paths around them.

"Bunny's getting too old for a nurse," Alicia sighed. "She needs a governess. The English are supposed to be the best governesses. I've been toying with the idea of interviewing some while we're here."

"Aren't they mean?" Mikey asked.

Alicia gave him a sideways look. "I think you can find one that's not mean."

"What do I need a governess for?" Bunny burst out, having run back in time to catch the gist of the conversation.

"So many reasons," Alicia said. "Several of which you just demonstrated."

 _vi._

They weren't at the Exhibition Halls today; they were back in the park. Frank had brought out his tripod and camera, which meant a lot of standing around and holding very still for the rest of them. Gerard was used to it by now, though.

"If I have a governess," Bunny said suddenly, "then she'll _always_ be there. I'll never be alone again."

"No," Gerard said slowly. "You won't. I'm sorry." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, to see if she understood. "I'd like to go to a music hall in the East End, but I can't. Even though I'm a king. Especially because I'm a king. I've done that to you. I'm sorry."

She nodded slowly, once. "I understand."

They went silent and held still as Frank ducked under the dark curtain. But he popped right out again. Gerard could almost hear him cursing, although maybe he just knew the shape of it by now. Frank started to shift the tripod, just a tiny amount.

They could see where construction was ongoing for the Prince Albert Memorial. Bunny had been unusually quiet after they'd explained what it was for.

"But," Gerard said, "I can promise you you'll never have to marry anyone you don't want to. That's something. You can marry for love, like Queen Victoria did."

"Queen Victoria reigns by herself," Bunny said. She glanced, a little anxiously, at Gerard. "As I will."

"Yes," Gerard said, as firmly as he could while still being gentle. "As you will."

A Queen ruling on her own, like Bunny would. With a prince consort. Like Gerard.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The Babble Machine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/446980) by [croissantkatie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/croissantkatie/pseuds/croissantkatie)




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